


a big scientific breakthrough

by writevale



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Actual scientific graphs, Established Relationship, F/F, For Science!, Genderswap, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Science, Sex Toys, Top Cecil Palmer, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 01:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writevale/pseuds/writevale
Summary: Carla the Scientist makes an important scientific discovery. And, well, she's not going to pass up on a chance to investigate it with her girlfriend, is she?





	a big scientific breakthrough

Carla the Scientist is less than pleased about the leather-caped, scythe-wielding, balaclava-flaunting _asshole_ raiding the tiny apartment above the lab.

So far, he has collected 6 books, approximately 50 pens and her vibrator. She can see it, buried among the ballpoints in their gloved fist, and can't decide whether the rage or the embarrassment is what is going to give her a coronary.

'This is insane!' She says.

'Look, Interloper. We've been told we can't take you in for re-education because you're new in town but know that these items-' They wave them in front of her face. Which is uncomfortable. 'Are strictly prohibited.'

'Sex toys-?'

'Prohibited.'

She sighs, 'Dios mío. What if I accidentally use a _regular object _for its _regular purpose_ without realising it's illegal?' The Officer stares at her. Dark, dark eyes through the holes in the balaclava.

'Listen to the radio.' They say.

Which, looking back on it, possibly the vaguest piece of advice she has ever received. And the best.

*****

'Take cover!' Mark shouts. Probably because he feels like he's having an action movie moment. They're actually all already curled up on the floor, arms flung over heads and necks as the canyon continues to judder, raining small rocks and scorpions onto the team of scientists below. The rock-face groans like it's begrudging its very existence and Carla desperately prays that she doesn't get hit somewhere vital. A big part of adjusting to her long-term relationship was the realisation that now there's someone who actually cares whether she eats, sleeps or gets crushed to death.

The geological catastrophe is over almost as soon as it started. Lots of things in Night Vale are like that. They stand, visibly shaken. Mark has a small cut on his forehead and the other scientists stare at it as he wheels on Hafza.

'You said we had another hour until that happened!'

'My calculations said we did!' She counters, jaw set.

'Hey, no arguing.' Carla cuts in, 'Time is weird, remember.' They stop arguing but give each other an unscientific look. Mark reaches down to pick up a fallen rock and then yelps, letting it slip through his fingers and back onto the floor. 'What? Are you hurt?'

He shakes his head dumbly. 'It - _buzzed_.'

*****

**Entry 240719 - CtS**

The samples are a selection of stones ranging in size from 2-15cm in diameter at their widest point, collected out by the smaller canyon (Not Radon Canyon, the one 3.6km East which no-one in town will talk about) following the expected seismological activity there. The stones are a similar shade of brown to the rock-face we believe they fell from (picture attached) but are inconceivably smooth and rounded as though through years of erosion and polishing.

Current theories: they didn't fall directly from the canyon? They were eroded on the way down to the ground?

The most singular characteristic of the stones is that, when they perform work against gravity - i.e when fellow researcher Mark lifted one off the ground - this energy is transformed into an intense vibration that lasts for much longer than non-Night Valian laws of energy conservation should allow for. We tested this by repeatedly moving the samples through a gravitational field (we shook them) and measured the time for the vibrations to cease (Figure 1).

As Figure 1 shows, the number of oscillations had an exponential effect on the time the samples vibrated for. The large error bar at 50 oscillations for the 14.9cm rock is thought to be due to human error. The experimenter potentially miscounted the number of oscillations in some of the repeats.

[AMMENDMENT: She means Cecile's Radio Show came on and she got distracted - Hafza]

[AMMENDMENT: _Thank you_ \- Carla]

The vibration time is well-conserved despite sample size, suggesting that this phenomenon is an inherent property of the compound. Much more experimentation is required to determine how this material reacts to other energy sources but the discovery of a compound that amplifies the energy given to it without the need for combustible fuel is certainly scientifically interesting.

*****

_Exciting news, Listeners. Scientists have announced the discovery of some . . . rocks. I - I don't realllly know what all the fuss is about but this town's most wonderful scientist, Carla - who, on an unrelated note, is _totally _my girlfriend - has spent the whole afternoon with her perfect hair in a loose, yet functional, ponytail, absolutely fascinated by the vibrations from these geological specimens. Well, whatever those scientists come up with next, we at Night Vale Community Radio wish them the very best of luck. _

It hits her when she hears Cecile's voice, like the flat expanse of a moonlit lake, form around the word _vibrations_.

*****

She calls during the weather.

'Carla! Hi!' Cecile answers excitedly. And then, quieter, 'I was just thinking about you . . .'

'How _interesting_. I was just thinking about you too.' Cecile laughs on the other end of the phone. A sound like dark chocolate.

'Are you calling for personal reasons?'

'Hmm.' Carla looks around her cramped office, remembering the number of times she'd called Cecile from here claiming science as a cover for wanting to talk to her.

'Uh-oh.'

'No, I am. Kinda. I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be a little late home tonight.' She tries not to let her girlfriend's 'oh' of disappointment hit her too hard. It's almost definitely for her own good. 'I want to bring some science home but I need to make sure it's safe first.'

'The rocks?' Cecile doesn't sound convinced. But she has been a life-long resident of Night Vale. She doesn't _know_.

'The rocks.' Carla confirms. 'I'm confident you'll like them.'

'Wow,' Cecile actually sounds a little breathy, 'I do love a confident scientist.'

Carla laughs, 'I love you.'

'I love you!'

*****

All her tests are satisfactory. That so rarely happens with science in general but in Night Vale? Never. Carla can easily pretend that's the reason for the spring in her step as her colleagues head home one by one, leaving her alone in the lab.

She glances towards the lab door and back at her samples. And then back at the door.

The rock that is 3.5cm in diameter is a smooth ellipsoid, its surface made interesting by a few smooth ridges and bumps. It looks perfect. She lifts it off the lab bench, and it buzzes gently in her hand. She shakes it and it buzzes more.

Scientifically speaking, speaking from the point of view of science, there is probably one last little thing she should do before she takes it home for Cecile. Carla the Scientist presses the rock to the crotch of her shorts. Y_es_. There are far too many layers of fabric in the way but there is the sensation she remembers. She grips the edge of the lab bench, feeling her face flush.

'Fuck.' She whispers to the empty laboratory and comes back to herself. The buzzing rock goes into her lab coat pocket as she races home.

*****

Cecile opens the door just as Carla is pulling her hair out of her ponytail and failing to get it to lie flat. She's not actually prohibited from wearing her hair up in the house, that would be unacceptable, but it's strongly discouraged. Usually with Cecile's delicate hands removing the offending hair tie and hiding the rest of them.

'Hi.' The blonde says in a way that means _hello, you are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen, did I ever mention that? _

'Right back at you.' Carla replies, reaching upwards to plant a soft kiss on Cecile's lips before crossing the threshold into their home. 'Um, why are you wearing my lab coat?' She asks as Cecile closes the door. It's not that she doesn't look striking in it, the cuffs of the sleeves a little short but otherwise a perfect fit, her long hair like spun gold against the white fabric. It's not like Carla hasn't thought about asking her to put it on. Cecile smirks, padding through into their bedroom, long legs disappearing under the hem of the coat. Carla follows.

'I thought we were doing science?'

*****

'We are doing science.' Carla promises. Underlining it with a gentle press of lips to the smooth skin of Cecile's thigh. 'I'm just getting warmed up.' From her spot on the floor, kneeling between her girlfriend's legs, she sees Cecil lift up her head and shoot her an arch look.

'This better not be how you usually warm up for science.'

Carla chuckles and kisses the other thigh. 'I'm warming you up.' Cecile huffs at this but lays back flat. Carla strokes a hand down the long expanse of her stomach where the white coat has fallen open to the sides.

After previous thorough examination, Carla had determined scientifically that the inner part of Cecile's thighs were, in fact, the very softest part of her body. She kisses upwards and smirks as the other woman wriggles somewhat impatiently.

'No teasing.' An imperious voice demands.

'Some teasing.' Carla replies, sitting back to ghost her fingers through Cecile's wiry pubic hair and lower. Cecile wriggles some more. 'You're so impatient today!' She sucks lightly on a finger and uses the spit-slick to trace a line between the folds of Cecile's labia, smirking as she hits a sudden wetness at the opening to her vagina.

Cecile tries to let out a huff of indignation which falls rather flat as her breath hitches when Carla drags her wet fingertip gently upwards and lets it circle the place where her girlfriend likes it most.

'You okay there?' Carla smirks.

'Just. Stop talking.'

Carla is usually quite good at taking things literally. Sometimes too good. She leans forward and licks at where her finger had been, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Cecile's clit and trying not to smile as Cecile's breathing goes very ragged, very quickly. Long fingers find their way into Carla's hair, firm and insistent. Honestly, doing a rather good job of keeping the flyaways out of her mouth. Nobody wants that. Carla lets her tongue dip lower, to press briefly at Cecile's opening and taste the wetness there. She lets out a hum of pleasure and feels Cecil's hands tighten in her hair in response. Cecile moans something, it might be her name, it might be some kind of prayer in Modified Sumarian. Either way, Carla figures that she's probably more than warm enough for the science.

Carla is pulled upwards by the hair, mouth back on her clit, sucking gently, moving her tongue against the hot flesh. She reaches surreptitiously into her lab coat pocket, hand bumping against illegal marker pens and banned hair ties to fold around an innocuous enough stone, about 3.5cm in diameter at its widest point. She pulls it out and shakes it.

Cecile's head pops back up. Her hair is mussed, though Carla reckons that hers is probably worse, and her pupils are huge and inky. Her eyebrows twitch into something quizzical that sends a warm, fuzzy feeling right through Carla's sternum.

'What are you doing?' 

Carla flashes a grin. The same grin that, long ago, Cecile may have fallen for. 'Science.'

Cecile removes her hands from Carla's hair with a noticeable reluctance and shuffles up onto her elbows to peer down at the scientist's oscillating arm. Carla stops and opens her hand, palm upwards to reveal a small, buzzing stone. Cecile's confused look intensifies.

'I- I don't get it.'

Carla's grin turns from something sexy to absolutely shit-eating.

'I know.' She rises upwards to press a wet kiss to Cecile's lips and the pair release soft 'mmphs' as they share tongues and the taste of sex. 'I'm gonna touch you with it, okay?' Carla explains, because informed consent is a cornerstone of ethical scientific practices and she'll be damned if the Declaration of Helsinki doesn't also apply in Night Vale. 'It should feel good but if it's too much or you don't like it then just tell me and I'll stop straight away, sweetie.'

Cecile's eyes narrow, deeply suspicious black pools ringed with the bastard child of a violet and a forget-me-not. 'Okay? I mean: okay. Yes. Let's science.'

Carla's not sure if she can grin much more widely. She unfolds her legs from underneath her and gestures for Cecile to make space on the bed.

'Wait!' Carla stops in her tracks, suddenly sure that Cecile is going to back out. Which is fine, she'd never pressure her to try something and maybe she could just give a demonstration- 'Take your shorts off.' Order given, Cecile shimmies up the bed, landing in a patch of evening sun that illuminates her with soft, golden light, like a sculpture in a fancy art gallery. It does something devastating to Carla's pulse. She smiles, sanguine and playful, 'And your underwear.'

'The coat?' Carla manages to stutter. Cecile tuts and gestures to her own body. She's flouting so many health and safety regulations with the way it falls open to reveal naked and unblemished skin, tattoos twisting and curling up her sides today, a hint of hip bone that Carla wants so badly to kiss. So many health and safety regulations. It's hot.

'We're doing science, baby girl, you know you need your coat.'

'Right.' Carla swallows, 'Of course.' She shakes the rock in her hand a few times for good measure and stretches out beside her girlfriend, eye to eye, mouth to mouth, a warm thigh slipping into the heat between Cecile's. One of Cecile's hands reaches up to cup her jaw and she leans forward until their lips meet. The gentle pressure is grounding and dizzying at the same time.

'You're gorgeous.' Cecile says as they break apart. Carla's cheeks heat and she presses forwards to kiss her girlfriend again before she can say anything else scientifically inaccurate and ruin the moment. The stone buzzes in her hand and, if Carla were the type to anthropomorphise, she would definitely describe it as impatient.

'You ready?' She asks. Cecile nods and Carla places one last kiss to her forehead.

Cecile watches with wide, focused eyes as Carla lowers the blunt edge of the vibrating stone to press it against her nipple. Carla sees the way her girlfriend catches her bottom lip under the ever-so-slightly uneven row of her teeth, sees how her back arches just a little as she inhales deeply.

'What does it feel like?' She asks, pressing the stone more firmly against a hardening nipple.

'Mmm, feels like-' Cecile licks her lips, 'Feels like your mouth. But faster. More electric.' Carla transfers the stone to the other nipple and is rewarded with a short gasp. 'Feels good.' She presses her smile to the smooth skin of Cecile's neck and opens her mouth to bite down, just a little, until Cecile moans. That sound, overlaid over the constant buzz of the stone, reminds Carla of the taste of cheap tequila an the smell of many a musty dorm room. A heavy feeling settles in the base of her spine, radiating slowly outwards. She catches her hips grinding uselessly against Cecile's thigh and bites back a desperate sound of her own.

'Baby.' She whispers instead to the red mark on Cecile's neck. There's a tension between them, a taut cord in the way Cecile arches her back upwards and gazes into her girlfriend's eyes, hoping the other knows what she wants but is, for once, unable to articulate. It's usually the other way around. Cecile with the phrases that Carla just drinks up, toes curling and hands fisted in the sheets. Carla is perhaps a little rusty at dirty talk. But this is science. 'I bet you can hypothesise where else it might feel good.' 

Cecile lets out a strangled sort of sound. 'Do it.'

She does it.

'Oh.' Cecile says. Carla feels the way her muscles go tight, hips rocking backwards into the bed as though the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, 'Oh, Carla. Bunny. Oh.' Carla's pelvic floor gives a sympathetic twitch. Cecile's hand reaches to encircle Carla's wrist, tight and unyielding. As if she's unsure whether to push or pull. Carla makes an embarrassing, high-pitched sound in the back of her throat. The feeling of Cecile pinning her wrists is one of Carla's buttons and it is being _pressed_.

'Okay, baby?' She asks between shallow breaths. Cecile twists her head to moan into the blankets. Her hand keeps Carla and the stone perfectly in place but her hips rock upwards, bucking against this new sensation. 'Ceec?'

'It's _so good_.' Her voice is deep and throaty, even when somewhat muffled. She turns her head back to meet Carla's gaze and hisses as the scientist experiments with pressing the edge of the buzzing stone against Cecile's clit, rather than the larger surface area of the irregular top surface. 'Carla.' She removes her hand from Carla's wrist and uses it to grip her waist instead, clever fingers sliding downwards as Carla parts her legs dutifully. 'Kiss me.'

Their mouths meet, all tongue and bitten bottom lips, and Carla feels the way Cecile smirks as she slicks her fingers in the evidence of Carla's arousal. They can hear it. Wet, sticky sounds as Cecile slowly works her fingers around Carla's clit. Carla would find it in herself to be embarrassed if it weren't so arousing. Cecile moans around her tongue, the movements of her hand arrhythmic and stuttering. There's a pause as Carla changes the angle where she forgets to move her hand at all. She'd be furious with herself if she knew, Carla thinks distantly. Cecile Palmer: total top, forgetting to keep her rhythm going. She hopes that the Secret Police Officer watching makes no attempt to tell her. Or confiscate their science.

'Ugh, Carla, I love you.'

'I love you so much.' Carla replies between kisses.

'Baby- Baby, I'm gonna-!' Her mouth falls open in a wordless scream, hips jerking upwards, eyes screwed shut. Carla kisses her open mouth, her cheeks, her neck. 'Fuuuck.'

'You're so sexy, Ceec. I love you so much.'

'Ugh.' Cecile manages, finally falling still. 'Okay. Okay.' Carla takes that as a sign to pull back, the stone still buzzing dutifully in her hand. 'Dr Carla.' She says seriously. 'I think I just had a biiiig scientific breakthrough.' They both giggle. Cecile sits up slowly, using Carla's thigh to pull herself up. 'God, no wonder you get so excited when you get positive results.'

'I would say that existence is probably the most exciting thing of all. But science is a very close second.' Cecile arches an eyebrow at this and smooths her hand down towards Carla's tanned knee. 'Science is always exciting.'

'Are you. . .' She lets her hand drift back up. Her voice is smooth. Carla imagines it sticking to her skin like drunk kisses. There's something steely in her eyes that definitely wasn't there in the Cecile who was writhing mess mere moments ago. '_Excited_ now?' Carla nods and Cecile squeezes her thigh. It means: _use your words_. It means: _I'm going to hear you beg for me. _

'Yes.'

'Good.' Cecile uses her other hand to push up Carla's T-Shirt under her lab coat and Carla presses up into her touch, blushing at Cecile's smile as she takes in the view. She feels her girlfriend's hand drift over her bra, fingers dipping beneath the lacy material to stroke the soft skin there. Carla wishes she wasn't wearing anything at all. Even the coat. 'This is cute.' Cecile comments, 'Anyone might think you were trying to impress someone.'

'There's this really hot radio host.' Carla finds a voice from somewhere.

'Oh, really?'

'Yeah.'

'What would you let her do to you, Carla?' Cecile's voice positively pours out of her mouth. Carla could swim in it.

'Oh, God. _Anything_.'

'Hm.' Cecile slides her hand down to rest on Carla's mons, fingers either side of the slick crease and squeezing gently. The pressure makes Carla's breath hitch. 'Would you show her your experiments?' Carla had almost forgotten about the buzzing thing in her hand but now she becomes acutely aware of it. She remembers just how good it had felt through her shorts.

'Yes. Yes, please. Can I?'

Cecile nods and it's all the encouragement Carla needs. She presses the stone between her legs, rubbing it back into the wetness at her opening and then circles her clit with it. She knows what Cecile meant when she described it as electric. When she squeezes her eyes shut she imagines the pleasure jolting into her like a fork of lighting, bursting into her spinal cord and racing upwards in a stream of light to where she feels it, right in the middle of her head. She tries to explain this to Cecile but it comes out as a long, low: 'Fuuuucck.'

Cecile has a hand in her hair, one on her thigh. The pressure firm and steadying. Carla knows with absolute scientific clarity that she is not going to last long at all. She doesn't know how Cecile withstood a constant pressure. It's too much. It's far too much.

'That's my good girl.' Cecile breathes. The hand in her hair tightens. Carla's hips move like they have their own sentience. 'Are you going to come for me?'

'Ah, baby. Yes. Fuck, yes. Please, Ceec-'

'So soon?' Carla doesn't need to open her eyes to see Cecile's smirk. She can _feel _it.

She curls in on herself as she comes, face twisted as though she's in pain, mouth open in a silent gasp. She doesn't know how to describe it in the moment - it will take careful consideration afterwards and rigorous repeated experiments - but the orgasm feels _different_ to normal. Like it's concentrated right on her clit as she shakes through it, before shooting up to her head, instead of the usual wave of molten pleasure that courses upwards through her whole body. Cecile laces their fingers together and Carla feels gentle kisses on her forehead, completely at odds with the white hot sensation of something being ripped out of her.

Suddenly, it all becomes unbearable, the vibration against her makes her hiss and pull away sharply, dropping the stone into the folds of blankets where it continues to buzz away.

'Wow.' Cecile shifts to lay back down and wrap her lab coat clad arms around Carla as she tries to collect herself. She smells like sex and a rock-face after a day baking in the sun. So Carla kisses her collarbone. Cecile is waiting to ask something, Carla can feel in in the hesitant tension in her girlfriend's body. She shuffles back to catch Cecile looking at her, something fond underneath something anxious.

'Everything okay?' Carla asks, alarmed.

'Yeah, yeah! Of course! Wonderful. You're - wonderful!'

'But?' Carla rests a hand gently on Cecile's waist and gets a hopeful smile in response.

'Round two?'

*****

The next morning Carla is sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a piece of toast that Cecile had made with rice flour and (maybe) a blood sacrifice, and trying not to be too surprised (or miffed) at the sudden interest her girlfriend is taking in her scientific ventures. Cecile has swapped the lab coat for a crop top and a pair of leggings with the words BROWNSTONE SPIRE on the ass. But Carla can get behind it.

'Soooo the rocks vibrate when you move them up and down.' Cecile takes a slow sip of coffee.

'Uhuh.'

'When you move them up. And down.' She punctuates her sentence with a few sharp thrusts of her hips. 'I mean, I'm just humble Community Radio Host, but I wouldn't hesitate to call that scientifically interesting.' Carla's mouth drops open. Then she realises her mouth is still full of wheat-free toast and swallows hastily.

'I hadn't thought of that.'

Cecile reaches over the sink to open the kitchen window. 'I mean, anything for science, right?' She says loudly.

'Anything for science.'

**Author's Note:**

> This can be filed under Things I Made When I Should Have Been Making Figures for my Dissertation. Oops.


End file.
